


I’m having a hard time with it

by whitchry9



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Arc Reactor, Arc Reactor Angst, Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Medical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:04:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2850236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitchry9/pseuds/whitchry9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'The first thing Tony noticed (not true, because in order, it goes pain, throat, then chest, but semantics, and the chest is the one that panics him the most, so it's what sticks) is that there is a literal weight lifted off his chest.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Richard Siken quote 'I want to be grateful but I’m having a hard time with it.'  
> I don't know why okay. (I titled it at like midnight on Christmas eve kay)
> 
> Written for a prompt. http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/19994.html?thread=48714010#t48714010
> 
> Happy holidays guys. :D

The first thing Tony noticed (not true, because in order, it goes _pain,_ _throat,_ then _chest,_ but semantics, and the chest is the one that panics him the most, so it's what sticks) is that there is a literal weight lifted off his chest.

About equivalent to an arc reactor.

Bottom line? Not good.

 

So he tried to scream or yell or something, but it's back to number two, which was throat, meaning _there's something in it_. He's been there before, far too many times, but he can never really get used to the feeling of a tube shoved in his trachea.

 

His other senses kick in then, more than just touch. His hearing started up, and he realized that sight could probably help, if he opened his eyes. Surely that had to help, or at least not hurt.

Unless it could. If he was being held somewhere, and they thought he was still unconscious, maybe they would leave him alone? Let him gather information until he could figure out a way to escape, or something, because escape might be hard considering, in order, pain, throat, chest. Whatever.

 

He focused on listening again for a minute.

Not much. It was quiet, and yet loud. God, he was so confused.

There was... talking. Nothing that he could make out, but murmurs somewhere in the background.

Beeping. Rhythmic beeping. Hospital sounds? Could be. That would make sense.

What else? Air. Air rushing. Also rhythmic. It was familiar.

 

Oh fuck he was totally in the hospital. Combine the air whooshing with the throat thing, and it spelled out ventilator.

So eyes opening would be okay. Probably.

He decided he could give it a go.

 

It was bright. Or maybe it wasn't. But after his eyes had been closed for however the hell long it had been, so maybe it just seemed bright.

 

That was definitely a hospital ceiling. He shifted his head slightly _fuck that was a mistake because throat, shifting and his gag reflex_ and yes, there was an IV bag. When he made the mistake of moving his head again _gag reflex, tape pulling at his beard, weight of the tube where it rested on his face_ he spotted it, why the weight was lifted off his chest.

The arc reactor was suspended above the bed in some sort of traction, the wires snaking back to the empty cavity in his chest.

It wasn't in his chest.

Oh god it wasn't in his chest someone took it out someone had taken it out while he was unconscious someone could have yanked it out and killed him as he lay there oh god what if one of the wires disconnected as he lay there and no one noticed.

He could distantly hear the heart monitor speeding up, but he didn't have time for that.

He arched his back up off the bed and reached for the reactor, because he needed to touch it, needed to put it back in oh god he needed to.

 

But his wrist was fucking tied down and oh god didn't they know they should never do that to him, not  _ever._ He was restrained and that meant he needed to get out because restraints were bad.

 

Everything on him hurt, but he yanked at the restraints because he needed his hands back because he needed his arc reactor back because oh god he was going to die here.

So he tugged and it hurt and his heart was racing, he could hear it, but he kept going. And god no it wasn't logical but he was terrified and didn't want to die here like this.

 

 

“Tony!” someone shouted, and oh god they were here to kill him weren't they, someone to finish him off. Well at least it would put him out of his misery.

 

He glared at them, wide eyed, trying to make out the blur into a person. Because by god, even if he couldn't do anything, he would make sure they knew he was not fucking happy.

 

“Tony, calm down, it's okay. I need more sedative in here! Tony, look at me.”

Tony focused. The voice was familiar. Dark hair. Glasses. Tony focused, hard.

Bruce. Oh god, Bruce, thank goodness, he was here to save him, right?

“Tony, stop struggling,” Bruce ordered. “You're okay. You're in hospital.”

Tony yanked at the restraints again, reaching for the arc reactor.

“It's okay Tony, it's still attached. We've taken it out because you have so many broken ribs and two collapsed lungs. The weight of it was crushing you.”

Tony halted in his escape attempts to think about that.

The weight of the reactor was indeed distributed throughout a number of his ribs, and if most of them were broken, it would be nearly agony for them to support the weight. Combine that with the collapsed lungs, which were probably a result of having so many broken ribs, and it would have been more harmful for it to stay in while he lay on his back. It was logical. Tony understood logic, even when he was disoriented and probably drugged and in a lot of pain.

He set his arm back down.

“That's right, just settle down. You're fine.”

There was motion behind him, and Bruce turned to a nurse carrying an injection.

“You've been sedated, but I guess it wore off. I'm going to sedate you again okay. We're going to let you sleep through the worst of the pain and disorientation, okay?”

Bruce waited for Tony's gaze to settle back on him, and he nodded to show he understood.

He didn't like it, but he understood. He couldn't do much of anything in this condition, and the only thing he really could do was panic and struggle.

He lifted his hand back up again and reached for his mouth and the tube that he could see out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't reach it, of course, that was sort of the point of the restraints, because they knew it was the first thing he'd go for.

“It should be out when you wake up next time,” Bruce assured him.

Off to the side, the nurse finished injected the medication into an IV line and Tony was beginning to feel the effects. He let his hand sink back down onto the bed, weighing at least a thousand pounds.

“We'll all be here when you wake up,” Bruce assured him, his voice sounding like it was coming through a tunnel.

Tony closed his eyes. That would be nice.

He slept.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty much everyone wanted more so here you go.

Tony swam towards consciousness slowly. He was in no rush. He was actually kind of enjoying the hazy nothingness that came with being nearly asleep.

He's enjoying it almost a little too much though, which is around when he realizes _oh god the arc reactor isn't there it's not there and I'm going to die oh shit._

Which was more of breaking the surface of consciousness, violently, as he jerked awake, sitting up in bed because oh god it's not in his chest. He opened his eyes and sat up as much as he could, which wasn't far because everything hurts but he needs to focus or else he's going to die.

 

“Tony, hey, Tony, calm down.”

Okay, that voice, he knew it. So he'd listen.

He blinked a couple of times, because there were large blurs in the room with him, and they probably made shapes.

And there they were. It was his team.

If his team was there, he'd be okay, no matter if he had the arc reactor in or not.

He sunk back into the pillow and breathed. Because once he thought about it, he realized it hurt. Not sharply, but underneath a haze of pain medication. He was grateful for that. Because if there was that level of hurt underneath the medication, well he could just imagine what it would be without it.

Bruce was at his bedside murmuring to him, and Tony made an effort to hear the words.

“Hey Tony. Remember that we took the arc reactor out because of your broken ribs? It's still out, but it's right there. You can see it, right?” Bruce talked to him calmly and in soothing tones, which Tony would have protested if he hadn't needed it so much. “It's still attached, and you're doing fine. Can you do some deep breaths for me? Your sats are a bit low.”

Tony nodded, and focused on breathing. He knew how to do breathing. People did breathing all the time with no problems. Of course he could do it.

 

After a minute, Bruce smiled and nodded. “Okay. That's good.”

“You're all here,” Tony croaked, wincing at the sound of his own voice.

Natasha moved closer brandishing ice chips. “Yes we are. You requested it I believe.”

Tony frowned, savouring the ice chips sliding down his throat.

“I couldn't talk.”

“Your eyes say a lot,” Bruce commented.

Tony nodded, and closed his eyes, taking stock of his body.

 

The arc reactor wasn't in his chest, which was okay, it was totally fine, because his team was there. He couldn't feel the weight of chest tubes, but his sides ached where they would have been, so he assumed they'd been removed recently. His chest ached with every breath, and his throat was still sore. He had no fewer than two IV lines, and the oxygen tubing had been taped to his face. Honestly. That wasn't necessary. He wasn't a child.

 

He picked at it to make a point, and Steve gave him a disapproving face.

“Leave it,” Bruce said gently. “You were dislodging it in your sleep. And it's this or a mask.”

Tony glared at him, and then extended his glare to the rest of the room. They knew of his hatred of oxygen masks, which was exactly why they'd threatened him with one.

“Whatever,” he muttered.

 

Clint hopped up off the couch he'd been sitting on, because of course Tony's hospital room had couches. “It's good to see you awake Tony, but I'm going to let you rest now. Come on big guy,” he added, tugging Thor along with him.

“I wish you well,” Thor nodded, and went along with him.

Pepper, and wow how did he miss Pepper being in the room, light of his life, gave him a kiss on his forehead before exiting. Natasha followed the rest.

Which meant he was left with Steve and Bruce.

 

“We were all worried about you,” Steve said, breaking the relative silence. It was never entirely quiet in a hospital. The whoosh of the ventilator was gone, but the oxygen flowing still sounded impossibly loud to Tony.

“You should know by now that I'm nearly impossible to kill,” Tony retorted. It really was true.

“Doesn't mean we don't worry,” Steve replied. “Bruce said that you panicked when you woke up the first time, and now after seeing it... I understand why.”

Tony frowned, turning to look at Bruce, who was on the edge of Tony's field of view.

Bruce shrugged and stood up, moving to Tony's bedside.

“It was just because I couldn't feel the weight of the reactor. I'm so used to it that not having it... is certainly panicking,” he admitted.

“I've never really realized how heavy it is for you,” Bruce noted. “Does it cause problems?”

“Um... yeah,” Tony muttered. Bruce was doing something off to the side of him, fiddling with some tubing. He lolled his head to look at him. “But it's not a big deal.”

“It kind of is,” Bruce said, looking back at him. “It was crushing you Tony. Sure, you had broken ribs and I know it's not normally like that, but if we hadn't taken it out, you would probably have died. And I saw the x-rays and CT scans. It's... really in there. And it's huge. How much is your lung volume reduced. Twenty percent? More with the scarring?”

Tony closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, wanting to sigh, but knowing it would hurt too much.

“Didn't have a lot of other options at the time,” he muttered. He practically felt Bruce wince.

“No, of course not,” he apologized. “But when you got back, you didn't think of surgery? Reconstruction or removing the shrapnel that was left?”

Tony opened his eyes and shook his head. “That wasn't really a good time for me. I was... a mess, I'm not ashamed to say that. And I'd only just started to heal, and I didn't think I could go through that again. There was just... so much to do, with the company, with Pep, with becoming Iron Man. And then the thing with Obie happened, and then there was the palladium fiasco, and by the time I realized it needed to come out or be replaced, I wasn't even strong enough to survive the surgery, let alone mentally ready for it.”

He shrugged, wincing as it jostled his ribs. It took him a moment to get his breath back, and Bruce waited, looking concerned.

When the lightheadedness passed, he continued. “And then life went on. It always seemed like there was something more important, and I could never set aside the minimum of three months I'd need to heal from a major operation like that.” He paused. “Besides, even with the reconstruction, I can't get that lung volume back. Half of my sternum would still be gone. My ribs would still be damaged. I'd still need a pacemaker implanted. And then I'd just have to integrate the power source into the suit in another way. I may as well leave it. And who knows? Maybe I'd wake up every day panicking because I couldn't feel it in my chest, just like I did the other day. And today.”

“It's nothing to be ashamed about Tony,” Steve said quietly. Tony had forgotten he was there, which he didn't understand, because Steve had kind of a gigantic torso. (And wow, what a weird thought. He blamed the drugs for both things.)

“I know that,” Tony defended, because really Steve, that was not what he was going for at all. He didn't want sympathy. God knows he really didn't. “What I'm saying is, it's okay. I'm used to it. I work with it. And sure, yeah it's a pain sometimes, but there's nothing that can be done about it, okay?”

Bruce frowned at that. “There has to be something we can do, surgery, meds, or even this guy I've heard about who used to be a doctor and now-”

“Bruce,” Tony interrupted. “Stop. It's fine. Well, it's not fine, but it is. It just is, okay? I've come to terms with the fact that I am going to be in chronic pain, and I am going to be immunocompromised because of this hole in my chest. I've accepted that I need a pacemaker to work my heart, and that if the arc reactor is taken out, I have only minutes before I die. And I know that it could only take one final blow to the chest to end me. I have accepted all these things, and I've never told anyone, because I can't. Okay? This isn't about any of you. It's just about me being accepting of the way things are.”

 

Both of the other men in the room were quiet for a while, and Tony focused on taking breaths that didn't hurt, which was a nearly impossible feat.

 

“Tony,” Bruce said quietly. “You complain all the time. Strained muscles, bruises, broken bones. But you have never breathed a word about this before. Why is that?”

“No point complaining about something that can't be fixed,” Tony muttered, closing his eyes. He was tired, and also didn't want to have to see Steve's sad face at that statement.

 

“Okay,” Bruce said finally. “Okay. But Tony, you know this only makes you even more impressive in our eyes.”

“What I always wanted,” he drawled, eyes still closed. God, he could only imagine the look on Steve's face.

Steve sighed, but it was one of the ones where Tony could tell he was smiling as he did it. He was very good at determining Steve's sighs just from the sound.

“It'll be another few days before your ribs can tolerate the weight of it again,” Bruce noted.

Tony nodded. He knew that he'd be waking up every single time in a panic because the weight wasn't there, but he also knew it was necessary.

“Maybe we could look into developing a new material that's lighter,” he murmured.

Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder. “That's a great idea Tony. But you just rest for now.”

“Don't tell me what to do,” Tony mumbled.

And then he went to sleep. But because he wanted to. Not because he was told.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think there will be any more after this. But never say never right?


End file.
